The Annual Northern Camping Trip
by InsanityUnderHats
Summary: Every year, Canada, Russia and the Nordic five get together for their annual winter camping trip. This year is no different, save for the obnoxious American who decided to tag along.
1. Chapter 1

This is based off of a headcanon I saw on Tumblr, therefore, the general idea of this story does not belong to me. Hetalia doesn't belong to me either, but you've probably figured that much out on your own.

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Parka? Check. Snowshoes? Check. Thermal underwear? Check. Canada smiled to himself as he finished packing his duffel bag, humming slightly as he zipped it up and placed it carefully in the corner of his hockey-poster decorated room. Tomorrow was the day he was waiting for almost all year, the only day he looked forward to as much as July 1st. The square representing January 15th on his NHL calendar was circled about a thousand times in blue pen, the writing inside the box reading 'Annual Northern Camping Trip' in messy scrawl. For a whole week starting tomorrow, seven countries would travel to Siberia, where they would build igloos, ice fish, hunt and generally just have a good time. For most people, January in Siberia didn't sound like too great of an idea, but to Canada, it was paradise. For a whole week, the country wouldn't have to worry about politics, the economy or…

"Hey broseph, whatcha doing?" An obnoxiously loud voice called from the doorway to his bedroom.

"Oh, hi America, Just finishing up some packing," Canada responded cheerfully. Even his annoying brother couldn't dampen his mood.

"Where're you going?"

Canada sighed, "I've been telling you every day for about two weeks straight now. I'm going camping in Siberia,"

"Siberia? Didn't they start World War 1 or some shit?"

"No America, that was Serbia," Sometimes, Canada couldn't believe how stupid his brother could be.

"Oh, alright," America paused briefly, "Wait, you're going to leave me here all alone?"

"My god America, I do this every year. Besides, you'll have Kumatora to hang out with. And Tony. And your whale. To be honest, it's not like you ever notice me anyways,"

America frowned, "Alright, you made your point. Who're you going camping with? It's not Cuba is it? It better not be Cuba,"

Canada chuckled a bit, "Cuba wouldn't survive ten minutes in Siberia. I'll be with the Nordics and Russia, the same people I always go with. Are you done asking questions yet?"

"No," America responded, completely ignoring the sarcasm in his brother's voice. "Just one more question, actually. Can I come too?"

"No," Canada answered simply.

"Why not?" America whined.

"This camping trip is only for northern countries. Therefore, you can't come."

"What about Alaska?" America retorted, a smug grin on his face.

Canada opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, completely unsure of how to respond. For once in his life, the idiot actually had a point.

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Much thanks for reading, the second chapter should be up soon. Also, ten internet cookies to the person who can tell me where the name 'Kumatora' comes from.


	2. Chapter 2

Woot! Chapter 2! Sorry it took awhile, I've been pretty busy with school and work and whatnot. Thank you to the two wonderful people who left reviews.

I think it's pretty obvious that I don't own Hetalia. Just saying.

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Canada involuntarily tapped the volume button of his mp3 player, silently praying for the sound to get louder, despite it being at the maximum. He only had a few more precious hours of electronic glory before landing in the Siberian wilderness. However, no amount of music could ease the tension between America and Russia. The glares they were throwing at each other almost seemed to form a physical presence in the little body of the plane, one that made the cold, Russian air seem even colder. Iceland, the only other sane person on the plane seemed to be doing the same thing as Canada, although judging from the sound leaking out of his headphones, he must've borrowed some of Finland's death metal.

Surprisingly, the others had been ok with America tagging along on their camping trip. Well, Russia didn't seem too pleased, but he was at least pleasant about it. Canada worried that he might be the only one on the trip who despised his brother's presence. He was determined not to let his brother ruin what would otherwise be an amazing time.

When they finally landed, mere seconds after the plane that had carried the other four Nordics, Canada was already exhausted by his brother's presence. During the last hour or so of the flight, America finally seemed to realize how uncomfortable Canada was and tried to drag him into conversation. Really awkward, really terrible conversation. Conversation with one who didn't even understand the basic concept of conversation. Conversation with one who probably didn't even know what conversation meant.

Needless to say, the plane was far more awkward when it landed than it was when it took off.

The icy winter breeze stung Canada's face as he stepped out of the bush plane. His thick boots made a satisfying crunch in the snow and the fresh scent of pine filled his nostrils. The perfect moment of nature was ruined however, by America tripping over a snow-concealed root and face-planting.

"Holy crap it's cold here," He said, picking himself up out of the snow and rubbing his hands together in a feeble attempt to warm up.

"Well yeah," Finland chimed in, "It's Siberia, what were you expecting?"

"I dunno, someplace warmer? We're supposed to be camping, right? How are we going to pitch tents with all this snow on the ground? Screw this, I'm going to go find a cheap motel. There's gotta be a Super 8 around here somewhere," America said with over-exaggerated anger, stomping off in a random direction.

"Come on, America. After we build the igloos, we get completely wasted and go hunting. It's a great time," Denmark said happily.

"No way, I don't care how drunk you get. I'm not doing this," America called as he continued to walk away.

"Sh'uld I go get h'm?" Sweden mumbled, watching America march off into the forest.

"He'll come back, don't worry," Canada muttered under his breath, looking at his brother's footprints in the snow.

~A few hours later~

Just as Canada predicted, America returned. Conveniently, it happened to be sometime between Finland putting the finishing touches on the final igloo and Denmark cracking open the first bottle of beer.

"I've decided to forgive you guys. It's not your fault that this place would turn out to be a total dump. Except Russia, it is kinda your fault. However, I've decided to grace you guys with my heroic presence. Really, there's no need to thank me," America grinned as he sat next to Denmark, taking the beer out of his hand and taking a long drink of it before handing it back. "Thanks dude, I really needed that,"

As various expressions of anger and sadness broke out over the Nordic nation's face, Finland began passing drinks around the circle of countries gathered around the fire. As they drank away the problems of the day, nobody dared to mention that they had known America was hiding in the bushes outside the camp the entire time.

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Thanks for reading as always. Coming up in chapter 3: fun times with sleeping arrangements!


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you to all the wonderful people who have reviewed and/or are following this story. You guys are awesome. Not quite at Prussia levels, but really, who can attain that?

I don't own hetalia and blah blah blah.

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"Before we get too smashed, we should probably make bedding arrangements," Norway said halfway through his first beer. Everyone around the fire nodded. Each igloo had enough room for two countries, and usually, who slept with who was pretty standard. Canada would bunk with Iceland, Norway with Denmark, Sweden with Finland, and Russia would sleep by himself. With one more person, (not to mention one that didn't get along very well with Russia) the usual arrangements had to be thrown out the window. When Russia left to go to the bathroom, an argument broke out among the remaining countries over who would have to share an igloo with him.

"I don't want to bunk with him! He's so creepy!" Finland said in a half-whisper the minute Russia left the fire.

"Sverige and I are too big, it would just get awkward," Demark said between sips of beer. Sweden nodded in agreement.

"Look, nobody wants to do sleep with Russia, why don't we just draw straws or something?" Iceland said quietly, with Mr. Puffin squawking in approval.

~About a half hour later~

Canada looked at the little piece of straw, twiddling it between his fingers before tossing it in the fire. Of course he'd draw the short straw. At least the beer was making feel a little less terrified of what was to come later tonight. In the meantime, Finland and Denmark were trying to comfort him.

"Sleeping with Mr. Russia can't be any worse than sleeping next to Sve," Finland chided, "He gets really clingy when he sleeps. Sometimes, he'll grab my arm and won't let go until morning,"

Denmark let out a laugh, "That's nothing compared to Norge. Last time we went camping, he accidentally kicked me in the balls. I can still feel it,"

"That wasn't an accident," Norway said from across the fire. Somehow, Denmark and Finland's words combined with the alcohol made Canada feel better. Bunking with Russia couldn't be too awful, He thought to himself. After all, it's only for one week.

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First came the snoring. This much Canada was prepared for. After all, he had heard from his usual igloo every other night of every other camping trip. From that distance, it was a comforting lull, a gentle rhythm. From where he was now, it was like sleeping next to an bear with a head cold. No matter how or with what he covered his ears, the noise continued, just as loud and intrusive as it was before. Fortunately for Canada, the snoring only lasted about an hour. Unfortunately, what can after was even worse.

The minute his ears found sweet relief after the previous assault, Canada felt two thick, muscular arms grab his torso and pull him into Russia's chest with the force of a car compactor. Canada let of a gasping whimper as he felt one of Russia's hand begin to stroke his hair. That wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was the chanting.

"Become one with mother Russia. Become one with mother Russia. Become one with mother Russia. Become one with mother Russia," Russia muttered under his breath.

"But I don't want to become one with mother Russia…" Canada whimpered weakly. "I don't want to become one with mother Russia. I don't want to become one with mother Russia,"

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"So how'd you sleep last night?" Finland asked cheerily the next morning as an exhausted Canada stepped out of his igloo.

"Become one with mother Russia…" Canada said groggily, lumbering over to where Norway was making instant coffee over the fire.

"I'm sorry," Finland said nervously, "I didn't quite catch that,"

"Nothing, I didn't say anything,"

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Hope you enjoyed! I'll probably add another chapter or two to this story before I'm finished.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry this took so long to update! I've been pretty busy with exams and stuff. I'm pretty sure this will be the second last chapter, but don't fret, dear citizens, for I have several more fabulous ideas bouncing around in my noggin, just waiting for me to write them down.

A big that you to all who are following this story and/or have left a review.

I don't own Hetalia. I'm not even sure how anyone could logically come to that conclusion.

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"So, anyways dudes, I was like 'nobody disses MY democracy and gets away with it.' And he was all like 'I'll dis whatever I damn well please, capitalist'. And then I said, 'not in my country you're not, comrade' and then I punched that commie so hard he flew all the way back to Cuba," America yelled as everyone else either ate their breakfast or glared at him disapprovingly. "And that my friends, is why no one fucks with the U.S of A."

Canada groaned; it seemed that every time he told that story, it got more and more exaggerated.

"That was good story, ja?" Finland laughed nervously as America looked around his audience for comments.

"I liked the part where he spit on your flag," Norway grumbled.

"I'm getting drunk," Denmark grunted, grabbing a beer from the cooler.

"Hey, I've got an idea, why don't we go hunting?" Finland suggested, hoping that they wouldn't run out of booze before the week was through.

"All right! I love hunting. I'm so awesome with a gun, I could even beat old Switzy at the range. Ain't that right, Switzy?" America asked, directing the question to Sweden, whose constant barrage of death-glares still hadn't managed to get through to the ignorant nation.

"Um, America, that's Sweden," Canada near whispered, trying not to draw the intimidating Nordic's eyes to his own.

"Sweden, Switzerland, what's the difference? They're both angry and cold and devoid of humour," America chuckled, not noticing the frightened glances that the other Nordics were giving him, especially Finland.

"We should get to hunting, da?" Russia said calmly, breaking the silence that had settled over the camp.

~A few hours later~

"He was blabbering all night about a hero or something. I told him to shut up at some point, but he tried to stuff one of his socks in my mouth. I'm not even sure if he was sleeping or not," Iceland complained as he and Canada waded through the snow.

"Shh, I think I hear something," Canada whispered, the faintest sound reaching his ears. He was slightly glad about the interruption; America's obnoxious attitude was contagious to anyone who spent enough time around him.

"PERKELE!" The shriek rang out through the forest, causing several birds to take off and likely scaring away any game that was nearby.

"That was Finland," Iceland murmured, starting to walk towards the scream.

Canada nodded, following. He hoped that the smaller nation was alright. That being said, human weaknesses didn't really apply to countries. Which was probably a good thing, considering that Finland now had a bullet in his leg.

When Canada and Iceland arrived at the scene, Finland was sitting on the ground, blood pouring out of his calf and onto the snow. The injured nation however, seemed far more intent on yelling every swear word he knew at a certain blond-haired, blue eyed North American.

"Look man, I don't get what the big deal is. I already apologized. I mean, come on, everyone gets mistaken for a deer at least once in their life," America said through Finland's torrent of colourful language.

After managing to get a supremely pissed off Finland back to camp, getting his leg bandaged up and knocking him out with emergency tranquilizer, the rest of the countries retired to their igloos, too tired to get drunk.

"I had a fun day today," Russia said, smiling contently as he closed his eyes.

"I'll bet you did," Canada mumbled as he curled up into a little ball, mentally preparing himself for the awaiting shit-storm of terror from his roommate.

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Hope you all enjoyed. Final chapter should (hopefully) be out soon.


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry this update took a little while, but I've been pretty busy with exams and whatnot. Also, I think I may have used at exact same excuse before on a previous chapter, but whatever. I'm actually glad this is the last chapter, as I've been getting kinda bored with this story.

Disclaimer: Anyone who thinks I own Hetalia is crazier than Russia.

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Canada groaned in agony as he looked up and down the massive stack of paperwork on his desk. He wasn't even gone for a whole week and yet he had more work sitting in front of him than France had vintage wine bottles.

Plopping down on his chair, he picked up a piece of paper on top of the pile and skimmed through it briefly before slamming his forehead on the desk. The force of the face-desk caused the mountain of documents to topple over, burying the nations head in files and folders. It didn't matter anymore. His one week of freedom had to be cancelled halfway through. Even though gunshot wounds aren't deadly to nations, they can still get infected. Everyone had decided to leave the morning after the incedent that it would just be better to leave before anyone else got injured by America's antics.

"It's all his stupid fault," Canada sobbed weakly to no-one.

"Hey, Mr. Whats-your-face," A small white bear said as he padded into the room, looking at the rather pathetic scene in front of him. A small envelope rested in his paws.

"What do you want, Kumakichi?"

"Mr. Puffin came by with a letter," Kumajiro casually tossed the envelope on to his owners head before leaving to find food.

Canada groaned before opening the letter, recognizing Norway's neat handwriting.

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Greetings, Canada

I don't think you'll be surprised to hear this, but we never want to see your brother on one of our camping trips ever again. I really don't think I can make it any clearer than that. If he shows up again, you'll be kicked off the arctic council. I wish we didn't have to take such drastic measures, but after the Finland incident, I don't think we have any other choice.

Sincerely:

Norway

PS. Your brother ended up drinking all the beer. Not cool man, not cool. –Denmark

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Canada took a few deep breathes before firmly grasping the edge of his desk and flipping it over, causing paper work to spill all over the office and resulting in a rather satisfying crash.

"Hey dude, what's with all the noise?" America poked his head into the now-ruined office, the straw of one of his bacon milkshakes hanging out of his mouth.

"Oh, it's nothing," Canada laughed nervously, not wanting to tell his brother that he had pissed off the Nordics, or that he had put Canada's place in the Arctic council in jeopardy. "I just, uh, dropped my desk,"

"Ok, cool. I'm going to go blow up some noobs on Xbocks. Catch ya later, bro."

"Yeah, you too," Canada muttered as he began to pick up the paper strewn across the room. At least there was still July first in a couple of months. At least he had that much to look forward to.

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Woot! All done with this story! I have another plan in mind for a fic in the near (or distant) future. I won't say what it is yet, but it involves FACES family and demon hunting, so yeah. Thanks again for all the wonderful people following, reviewing and favouriting this story. You guys mean a lot :)


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